Danger in Doubt
by UniqaChica
Summary: Natasha's life was being threatened. Clint was sure he was doing the right thing. Rated just in case.


(A/N: My first Clintasha fic of surely many to come. AVENGERS WAS SO AMAZING, OMAGODD... Hope you enjoy!)

Summary: Natasha's life was being threatened. Clint was sure he was doing the right thing.

Disclaimer: I do not own "The Avengers" or these amazing Marvel characters.

Danger in Doubt

A Natasha/Clint Fanfic

by Jill Diamond

She downed the shot in one gulp as she paced the floor, and eagerly poured herself another glass. She was trying to "relax" per Fury's orders. She hated relaxing – she needed to punch something.

Three raps on the door.

"It's open," she called in a surprisingly strained voice.

"_Nat, it's me._"

She hesitated, her glass just touching her lips, paused. Quickly setting her drink down on the vanity, she shuffled over to the door. Through the distorted vision of the peephole, she could see he was alone.

The deadbolt let up as she opened the door.

"Hey."

"Hey."

She could tell he had just come from an extensive practice session – the way his hair fell just so and his slightly faster than normal breathing. His eyes were tired. Also the fact that his archery glove contrasted with his street clothes. Without words, she backed away and allowed him into the hotel room Fury had put her up in. He was silent, as usual. He leaned against the wall and watched as she returned to her liquor, waiting for her to say something.

She twisted her glass between her fingers and stared at a speck. She would have preferred to not talk at all, and just suffer quietly with each other – no emotions required - but she could sense why he was here, and had to nip it in the bud, so to speak.

"Look, if you're here to patronize me, you can forget it. I'm fine." She downed her second shot a little slower than the first, still not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact. But before she could dish out her third, she felt a warm hand brush against her cold fingers and pluck away the bottle without argument.

"I don't want you to let your guard down," he explained calmly, "and I think Fury would agree with me."

Fury. God, she had had it up to here with that cyclops as of late. He was her boss, but that didn't mean that he could boss her around. She didn't have to answer to him, or any of this. And yet she did.

He locked the vodka away in the bathroom, as if that would keep her from pulling it back out as soon as he left the room. Then that thick silence fell over the both of them again. She sat on the edge of the bed, elbows resting lamely on her knees. She looked exhausted.

"Nat..." he started, but intelligent words were absent. He closed his mouth again and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Why did this have to be hard? Why did they have to be complicated?

"I can handle myself," she muttered possibly to him. "They don't need to lock me up like a child."

"Nat -" he began again, this time to more or less calm her down rather than make a speech.

"They've crossed lines with me, Clint. They can't just expect me to sit here while they run around trying to ruin my life!" She realized her voice was rising and stilled her tongue in quiet shame.

"Nat, they're not just gonna stop at that, and you know it. They're different. They don't see you as an obstacle – they see you as a target...and they're not gonna stop until they put a bullet through your heart." Clint was barely speaking above a whisper, but he knew that she was hearing every word. "You're in danger."

"Tell me something I don't know."

He could tell that she was aggravated, like a lioness with nothing better to do than sit in a cage. The fire in her eyes was plainly visible. She usually didn't mind being alone in a situation, that's why she worked freelance so often, but this was one of the rare exceptions. And he hated to admit it to himself, but, for now, she would just have to stay there. He had to get this over with.

His vision blurred as he uncontrollably flashed back to that day – the day he almost lost her. The blood pooling on the ground made him sick. If that day meant as much to her as it did to him, then she would understand.

"Natasha," the use of her full name was enough to get her attention, "...I've asked Fury to let me off this case."

She stayed completely still, physically daring him to prove he wasn't lying. He swallowed dryly before continuing.

"If they're as smart as they seem, then sooner or later, they're gonna come for me to get to you. And frankly, after that mess with Loki, I can't trust myself to keep you safe." He intended to go on, but Natasha jumped up and was at his side in seconds, pangs of tears just beginning to brim.

"Clint Barton, you have kept me safe before, and there is no doubt in my mind that you can do it now." She spoke without a falter in her voice.

"I'll drop out of existence," he continued with a small pain in his throat, "for just a few weeks; live under an alias until this thing is dealt with for good."

"But Clint, we _need _you," she choked.

"I hold information that could kill you in the blink of an eye, Natasha – do you really want to chance that? They bombed your apartment and tried to stab you in cold blood – I think it's time to start taking risks."

Natasha opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. The only reason she found in not wanting him to leave was just that – she didn't _want _him to _leave._ Her eyes burned as every ounce of her willpower was put into preventing her tears from falling. No matter how many guards Fury posted out on the streets and up in the sky, just knowing that he was near was the only thing that kept her feeling safe. And now, that was about to be taken away from her, along with almost everything else.

She didn't realize that she was gripping his arm, but she slowly released her hand when his eyes darkened with a tint of unwavering decision.

"You're right," she breathed meekly, her own eyes uncontrollably downcast.

"...I'm sorry, Nat." There was weight to even his simplest words.

He leaned down and slowly kissed her on the cheek. She made a mental side note of her surprise at the dryness of his mouth. Before he pulled away completely, she pushed him back down by the back of his neck and moved her lips against his fully. It wasn't desire or false drunken admiration, like their past kisses. It was her way of trying to explain all the things she desperately wanted to say, but, being in her position, she knew she never could. Their lips pulled apart slowly from the contact as she let a breath escape. Almost nervously, she gazed up to his eyes. Still a bit hazy, but with a vague sense of understanding.

She honestly didn't know what more she had been expecting.

She released his neck from her grasp and widened the proximity between them.

"Go on, get out of here." It sounded like she was talking to her cat, but her limited eye contact compromised her lightened tone.

Pausing for just a second or five, Clint eventually followed her orders and stepped out the door.

Natasha brought her arms tightly around herself in the loss of his presence, trying to calm the sudden shaking in her stomach.

_The End_

(A/N: I just love the relationship between these two, and not just in the romantic way. Okay, hope you enjoyed!)


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